


Falling Stars

by Crewe



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Crying, Gen, Grief/Mourning, listen its sad as fuck but it ends okay, spoilers for the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 07:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12526340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crewe/pseuds/Crewe
Summary: Scanlan has a plan to save Vax.He doesn't.Now he has to say good-bye.





	Falling Stars

Scanlan is well used to saving Vax.

 

It's practically a reflex at this point, completely quotidian, just another box on his to-do list: wake up, style hair, pull over-grown emo chicken out of the frying pan.

 

So he's not… _worried_ , really, when Vax goes and gets himself into trouble. It induces more eye-rolling than fear sweat, generally. It's easily fixed, with a well-placed counterspell or a leap off a balcony or a handful of reassuring words and a smile. And when that isn't enough… well, he'll think of something. He always does.

 

And he _does_ , too, is the thing. Vax gets himself a deadline, literally, and Scanlan gets himself a deadline-extender. It's the most powerful spell he's ever managed to master and he knows, instantly, that this is it. This is the way out. This is how he'll save Vax.

 

So he's not worried. The rest of Vox Machina grieves, and Vax mopes in his I'm-happy-to-sacrifice-myself way of his, and Scanlan keeps quiet, and goes over the spell in his head, and goes about business as usual knowing he has the means to make it all work out.

 

And he doesn't tell anybody, because after all, he's always had a flair for the dramatic and he can just _imagine_ the faces of his friends when he snatches Vax right back from the jaws of death before their very eyes.

 

So he goes into the final battle with one nagging thought at the back of his head: _save your strength_. Any experienced spellcaster knows just how much energy they need for certain spells, just how far they can push themselves before they simply can't cast any more. And Scanlan knows precisely what he has to set aside, and he resolves to give everything he has to stop Vecna but also to make every effort to conserve just that—just enough. _Stop Vecna, but save Vax._

 

It feels like he spends the entire fight putting out fires, _just barely_ stopping catastrophe after catastrophe, keeping Vecna from definitively turning the tide of the fight with counterspell after counterspell. And through it all, he conserves. He uses a spell that’s _just enough_ , he gambles ever so slightly but it’s okay, it all works out, and in the back of his head runs that same refrain, _save it save it save it_ and he does.

 

And then Vecna starts to teleport.

 

And Scanlan knows several things instantaneously.

 

One, if Vecna gets away, this was all for nothing. He’ll raze all of Exandria, starting with Vasselheim. They won’t get another chance at him probably for months, and they’ll be losing friends and allies the entire time.

 

Two, Vecna will specifically target their loved ones in revenge. He knows everything about them and has already proven himself more than willing to use their family as leverage. He’ll go after _Kaylie_.

 

Three, it will take everything he has to stop him. No reserves, no holding back. The most powerful counterspell he can muster.

 

Four, Vax is going to die.

 

It’s not a choice for him to raise his hand and start the spell, because there is no choice.

 

It’s Vax or Exandria.

 

Vax or _Kaylie_.

 

Vax signed up for this, Vax _already_ sacrificed himself, but even as Scanlan justifies it to himself, _knows_ that he’s making the right—the only—decision, tears drip down his face as he finishes the spell and feels the magic drain out through his fingertips, leaving him empty and hollowed out inside because—

 

Vax is going to die.

 

He isn’t going to save him.

 

He looks up and meets Vax’s eyes, bright and grinning because they’re all cheering for him, cheering for what he’s just done. He sees Vax falter at the look on his face ( _and what must he look like, when he can barely breathe through his guilt and despair and feels tears on his face, when he hasn’t cried in front of Vox Machina in—well, ever, not really_ ) and he says to him, too quietly to hear but he knows Vax will understand anyways, “I’m sorry.”

 

Vax’s brow scrunches up in confusion, and Scanlan watches as understanding slowly dawns and he looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

 

Scanlan lets himself start to fall apart for just a second, just enough to get a glimpse of the grief waiting for him on the other end of the battle, then he pulls himself together because he still has five other friends on the battlefield that he _can_ save, that he will get out of this fight no matter what because he refuses to lose anyone else today. The battle doesn’t calm down, thwarting Vecna’s escape plan doesn’t give them a chance to catch their breath, but it’s almost over, they can all feel it. It takes more than one go, but finally, _finally_ , Keyleth takes the book and reads the incantation and all of a sudden that’s… that’s it. It’s over.

 

It’s all over.

 

Vax swoops down to kiss Keyleth and then he’s picking Scanlan up, holding him close like he did in the Underdark all that time ago. Normally he hates being lifted and carried like a child but it’s _Vax_  and Scanlan sags into his arms but he still can’t look at him. The battle is over and they’ve won and it’s really starting to settle in that—

 

Vax is going to die, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

 

“Scanlan,” Vax says, softly, trying to get his attention.

 

Scanlan doesn’t look, can’t, is too busy trying to keep himself together because—surely there’s still work to be done, he can’t—if he lets himself look, if he thinks about it, he’s going to fall apart completely.

 

“Scanlan,” Vax says again, more insistently, and finally Scanlan looks.

 

“You were trying to save a Wish for me?” Vax asks, and his voice is painfully soft, a little awed, and at Scanlan’s barely-there nod his face crumples.

 

He doesn’t even look _upset_. He’s staring at Scanlan with nothing but love and gratitude and _awe_ in his eyes, as if this stupid half-elf, after everything they’ve been through together, didn’t already  _know_ that of _course_ Scanlan had a plan to get him out of this stupid situation he’d gotten himself into. As if it doesn’t even matter that he’d failed.

 

And Scanlan realizes abruptly that he’s made a mistake—he’d spent so much time planning on how to get Vax out of his deal, had taken for granted that his plan would work, that he had never bothered to consider the possibility that it wouldn’t, and prepare himself for the alternative. Everyone else had been preparing themselves for the inevitability, and Scanlan is struck with the realization that he’s _not ready_. He doesn’t want Vax to go.

 

Vax is going to die.

 

He hates crying in front of the party. He’s always tried to look strong in front of them, to look in control, because _somebody_ has to, but he can’t right now, because his friend is going to die and he—he _decided_ not to save him.

 

He can’t stop the tears but he hides them, buries his face in Vax’s chest next to the raven skull and breathes in the smell of dust and feathers around the blockage in his throat and lets the them fall, almost silently. Vax’s arms close tighter around him and he leans his cheek against the top of Scanlan’s head, and Scanlan can feel Vax's own hot tears dripping into his hair. Vax has never been afraid to cry in front of them, never hidden anything he's felt from them.

 

Vax has always been braver than him.

 

There are things they need to do, responsibilities they need to deal with and consequences they need to face and Vox Machina needs him, but right now, for just a second, exhausted and guilty and utterly, utterly spent, Scanlan clings to Vax and lets himself grieve.

 

—

 

Vax goes to the Raven Queen easily and unafraid, and he thanks Scanlan before he goes.

 

Scanlan doesn’t ask for what. And he doesn't cry.

 

Afterwards, he plucks some snowdrops and carefully stows them away.

 

—

 

It's easy to get distracted—especially when he's happy to let himself be.

 

Kaylie is an excellent distraction for the first night, a reminder of why he did what he did and it's impossible to regret his decision when she smiles and laughs and holds him.

 

God, he loves her. It's easier, when she's here, to remind himself he made the right decision. To forget the decision at all and throw himself wholeheartedly at the future, at _their_ future.

 

He's so tired, utterly drained by everything that has happened that by the time she leaves he collapses in bed and doesn't dream.

 

And then, of course, they go to Pandemonium.

 

It's fun, almost. It's entirely ridiculous, at any rate, and their annoyance at Grog and the new mission serves as another thorough distraction. They're a little off their game, without two members of the team, but they are still, after everything, Vox Machina. They fall into an easy, familiar rhythm and Pandemonium almost feels like a vacation after Vecna. By the time they return to Whitestone, Scanlan feels a little more himself.

 

—

 

Until it catches up to him, as of course it does. They're in good cheer—disgruntled and exasperated, but with the familiar bone-deep satisfaction of an adventure well-conquered. The six of them stroll up to the castle together, alternating between small talk and companionable silence as they all contemplate their next steps, resuming all the plans that Grog so rudely interrupted when his soul was sucked out of his body.

 

It's a cat, probably, or maybe a bird or, hell, maybe just the wind. It doesn't matter. Scanlan isn't paying attention, hanging back from the rest of the party and teasing Grog about missing out on all the action. He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and then something brushes against his shoulder.

 

With a well-trained reflex born of years of carefully avoiding pranks and misplaced daggers, he dodges sideways and goes, “Vax, what—”

 

And freezes.

 

A heartbeat later he realizes everyone's footsteps have also stopped and he looks up wide-eyed to see everyone staring at him.

 

He swallows, swallows again, feels a sort of panic rising in his throat and takes a step backwards.

 

“I—I, uh, there was—” he stammers.

 

“Scanlan,” Vex says, impossibly gently, and the look in her eyes cuts him deep and Scanlan turns and runs.

 

They let him go. He takes the long way around and takes a back way into the castle. He makes his way to his room and closes the door, then he sits on the bed and _shakes_.

 

Vex finds him, because of course she does. He could never hide from Vex.

 

She knocks on his door and when he doesn't answer she pushes it open, just enough to peek inside. She lets out a soft breath like a sigh when she sees him and steps inside, gently shutting the door behind her and leaning against it with her arms crossed loosely in front of her.

 

“Hello, darling,” she says into the hush of the room.

 

Scanlan musters a smile for her, a pale imitation of his usual cocky grin. There's no use in pretending much in front of Vex; she's always been able to see through him. He loves and hates her a little for it.

 

“How are you doing?” she asks, tilting her head and giving him that same piercing look.

 

“Well, you know,” he says lamely, shrugging one shoulder, because he doesn't know what to say to her. He doesn’t know how to explain that for a moment he’d forgotten and it was all rushing back to him, that he feels like he might suffocate because two weeks ago he hadn’t saved one of his best friends and he’d _forgotten_ for a moment and now it's back with a vengeance, pressing down on him, threatening to overwhelm him like all the grief had just been building in those two weeks when he wasn’t thinking about it and now all of a sudden he’s drowning in it.

 

He doesn't know how to say that he thought he saw Vax and now Vax is all he can see, the look on his face when he said his good-byes and went to the Raven Queen.

 

He doesn’t know how to explain to her that he feels guilt for Vax’s death but doesn’t regret it because it saved them all, saved Kaylie.

 

He doesn’t know how to ask her why she’s just standing there looking at him with nothing but sympathy in her eyes ( _not pity, never pity, not from Vex, and he loves her quite a bit for that_ ) when by all rights she should be yelling and swearing and never forgiving him for letting her brother die.

 

He doesn't know how to apologize for choosing his family over hers.

 

But Vex just walks over and takes his hands in hers, because Vex’ahlia has always been the strongest of them, and Scanlan lets her because he knows her, knows that she copes with her own grief by helping others cope with theirs.

 

“I miss him, too,” she whispers, and there’s such pain in her voice but she keeps herself together. Scanlan wonders if she’s had the chance to fall apart yet, to let herself feel everything, if that’s why she can be so calm now.

 

He holds her hands tighter and she squeezes back and they cling to each other. Grounded, Scanlan draws deep, ragged breaths until they come out cleaner again.

 

“He wasn’t even upset,” he says, his voice rough and quiet. “He just… he just went to her. I didn’t—he wasn’t mad. He wasn’t upset at all.”

 

Vex nods, quiet for a moment, then she slowly shifts to sit beside him on the bed, not letting go of his hands. “My brother was a man of faith,” she says, finally, slowly like she’s carefully considering each word before letting it out. “He always has been, always. Even before he was a religious man—he had faith in me, in us. In the rest of Vox Machina. He had faith in you, Scanlan, more than anyone. I think… I think he wasn't upset because knew that we would be okay. And he only ever cared about us.” She lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes her head lightly, raising one of their joined hands to brush away a tear with her knuckle. “That idiot.”

 

Scanlan feels like he’s been shot—or maybe like he was shot a while ago, and it’s finally catching up to him. Like he's been bleeding out this whole time and he's only just realized. “I let him down,” he says, and it feels like a confession. “He always trusted me to save him and I didn’t. I let him die.”

 

Vex sighs, “Scanlan—” but he doesn’t let her continue.

 

“I wanted to save him,” he says urgently, and he looks right in her eyes because he wants her to know. He wants her to understand. It's selfish, he knows it's selfish, but he can see the shadow of Vax in his twin's face and he can't stop the words from coming out. “I had a plan, I planned for weeks—I was going to save him. I was going to save my strength and cast the most powerful spell I know and it would have brought him back to us. But then Vecna was going to escape and I—I couldn’t let him. I had to stop him, but I used up everything I had and I couldn’t save Vax. I knew I wouldn’t be able to when I stopped him but I—I had no choice.”

 

Vex just looks at him and Scanlan can see that she’s hurting, and he didn’t mean for that but he can't help it, holding tight to her hands with white knuckles and staring at her like she can offer absolution.

 

“I'm sorry,” he says, and it sounds like begging. “I'm so sorry, Vex. He's dead because of me.”

 

“Stop it, Scanlan,” Vex says sharply, tears gathering in her eyes, in that way she used to snap at her brother when he brought up his own impending death in the weeks leading up to it. “Just stop it. I don't want to hear you say that, all right? I _don't_. It wasn't your fault.”

 

Scanlan opens his mouth—to argue or agree, he's not sure, but Vex doesn't let him regardless, tugging on his hands and forcing him to meet her eyes.

 

“You might as well say it was my fault he's dead, because if I hadn't died in that tomb he never would have made that _stupid_ deal in the first place,” she says fiercely.

 

“Vex, no—”

 

“No, you're right, it wasn't my fault,” she says, tossing her hair back with a shake of her head. “And if it wasn't mine, then it wasn't yours, either. It was no one's fault but Vax’s. He _chose_ to sacrifice himself for me. He chose to become the Champion of the Raven Queen.” Vex takes a shuddering breath and seems to steady herself, leaning in towards him. “My brother never did anything he wasn't prepared to accept the consequences of. He would never blame any of us for his death, and I don't want to hear you do it either.”

 

Scanlan meets her eyes, misty with tears but alight with fierce determination, and smiles.

 

“He was always the best of us,” he says like an admission of defeat, and Vex gives him a little, helpless laugh and nods.

 

“That he was, darling. That he was.”

 

She finally releases his hands to brush the tears out of her eyes, then reaches out to gently pull him in by the shoulder. Scanlan wraps his arms around her neck and buries his face in her shoulder like he did with her brother the day he died.

 

“He loved you, Scanlan,” Vex murmurs, squeezing him tightly. “He loved you so much.”

 

Scanlan holds her back and can only offer a lame, “He loved you, too,” even though they all know the words pale in comparison to the sheer force of Vax’s devotion to his sister.

 

Vex only says, “I know,” and it's watery, but Scanlan can hear the smile in it.

 

“It's okay to miss him, you know,” she adds after a moment. “And it's okay to grieve. We won't think any less of you.”

 

He's still a coward, but here with Vex’ahlia curled around him he lets himself loosen, lets himself sag against Vex and the tears come and then he's sobbing, feels like he might shake apart from it but for Vex’s arms around him.

 

He lets himself cry, the way he wanted to when he gave up his spell, the way he wanted to in Vax’s arms after the fight and when the snowdrops popped up around his feet and when they toasted Vax in the bar and he laughed and joked instead. He lets himself fall apart with ugly, heaving sobs, because his friend is gone, _gone_ , Vax who loved brighter and more fiercely than anyone he’d ever met and felt everything so deeply it was a wonder he didn’t drown in it. Vax who laid his life on the line, time and time again, to save the people he loved and people he’d never met without a care for himself. Vax who has always quick to play a prank or tell a joke but equally quick to tell the people around him how important they were to him. Vax who burned so bright even in the deepest of shadows.

 

He cries for a long time, and lets the feelings of hopelessness, of guilt and shame and loss, he lets it all pour out of him until he feels hollow inside but cleaner, almost, scrubbed out and sore but ready to be made whole again.

 

When finally he can summon no more tears, he simply rests against Vex for a few more heartbeats, waiting for his breathing to calm and too embarrassed now to meet her eyes right away. As she shifts her head his fingers catch in her braid, and it feels… loose, much looser than usual.

 

Oh. Of course; she’s been braiding it herself.

 

He slowly pulls back and meets her smile, and before she can say anything he tugs at her shoulder and orders her to, “Turn around.”

 

Her brow furrows in confusion. “Scanlan, what—”

 

“Just,” Scanlan pauses, takes a deep breath and meets her eyes. She raises one eyebrow and he gives her a reassuring smile. “Just trust me.”

 

With a short huff of laughter, Vex relents, rolling her eyes and letting him position her so her back is to him.

 

Quickly, with deft fingers, he undoes her long braid, slipping the feathers out and laying them carefully on the bed beside them. Before she can ask him again what he’s doing, he starts braiding again, so tightly she gasps in pain, but she offers no protest and a little bit of tension slips out of her shoulders.

 

They sit in silence while he braids her hair all the way down her back, then ties it off and with gentle reverence tucks her feathers back behind her ear.

 

From the bag laying on his bedside table, he withdraws his small handful of snowdrops, and one by one carefully tucks them into the tie at the end. They look like falling stars against her dark hair and he catches himself thinking,  _I wish, I wish_ , and then she's pulling away from him.

 

Vex pulls the braid over one shoulder and runs her fingers down it, letting out a soft, surprised gasp as she finds the flowers. She turns back around to look at Scanlan and there are lines of tears streaming down her face but she’s smiling, soft and genuine and _grateful_ , and he can't help but smile back.

 

She leans forward and lays a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, darling,” she breathes, and he skips back a step to offer her a short bow and a playful smirk.

 

“Of course, Vex,” he says, and he means it with all his heart. “Anytime.”

 

Vex gathers herself and stands up off the bed, her fingers still playing idly with the braid. “I think we could both use some rest now, don’t you?” she asks, and there’s a bone-deep weariness in her voice but still a sort of lightness.

 

Scanlan can only nod. “Yeah,” he says, his voice still a little rough from the crying and they both look a right mess but he feels… better. Maybe a little lighter himself. “Good night, Vex.”

 

“Good night, Scanlan,” she says, and walks over to the door.

 

Before she leaves, she looks back over her shoulder and says, “Oh, and Scanlan?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Thank you,” she says, “for stopping Vecna. For not letting him leave.”

 

Scanlan takes a deep breath and it hurts, but it’s a good hurt. A healing hurt. “Of course,” he says again, and she smiles, turns, and goes.

 

Scanlan lies back on the bed and looks out the window at the overcast sky above Whitestone.

 

He thinks, wherever he ends up, wherever he follows Pike and Grog—he’d like to plant snowdrops.

**Author's Note:**

> almost a year ago, i wrote my first ever fic about scanlan failing to save one of his friends. it only seems fitting that i round out the end of this campaign by writing another one.
> 
> vax's death completely destroyed me, and the vax&scanlan brotp has always been incredibly important to me. thank you, sam and liam, for breaking my heart into a thousand pieces.


End file.
